


You Leave Me Tongue Tied

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:45:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: I'm gonna take those hugs you offered xD And maybe I could give a prompt in return? Root intentionally (of course) miss pronounces some words. like Harold asks "Did one of you shoot the target?" Root answers "No, we kissed." Shaw rolls her eyes "She meant MISSED!". Or situation #2 shaw yells "Root, above you!" Root shoots the guy and answers "Oh Sweetie, now it's not the time, but I love you too"</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Leave Me Tongue Tied

Shaw walks down the street, melting the icy air with the anger steaming from her body. She stuffs her hands roughly in her coat pockets, heels clicking harshly against the cold sidewalk.  _Where is she_.

 _She was supposed to be there,_  Shaw fumes to herself.  _John and Lionel are at their jobs and we were supposed to work the number. But, no,_ she sneers to herself, and a man in a business suit looks the other way, head down. _Today she decides to go missing._  Part of her is worried, she hadn’t answered her earpiece.  _Since when does she take a sick day_? Shaw thinks, anger dissipating slightly.

"Morning, Sweetie," Shaw whips her head to the side, taken by surprise by the loud voice at her side. She sees Root, seemingly appearing from thin air. Her worry’s gone, frustration filling its void.

"Nice of you to  _show up_.” Shaw spits back in greeting, turning her head straight forward. From the corner of her eye, she sees Root give her a weird look, eyes trained on Shaw’s lips. Her brow is slightly drawn, but her face becomes neutral a moment later.

* * *

 

"I was busy."

"You were late." Shaw turns her face angrily to look at Root, again noticing Root concentrate on her lips.

"Well you should have said  _that_ ,” she replies with a light smile. “I’f I’d known I was your date, I would have pushed everything off my li-“

"Woah, woah-  _wait_. Date? I said you were  _late._ " She over pronounces the word ‘late’, watching as Root focuses.

"Oh." Shaw wants to ask what’s wrong, but shakes the thought from her head. Root is being Root, Shaw tells herself, but something feels a little off. Her eyes drift back to Root, and she wears a neutral smile, unconcerned eyes. Sighing, Shaw brings her head forward, trying to drown her butterflies.  _A date?_

________\ If Your Number’s Up /________

The two walk up to a brick wall apartment building. The alleyway is riddled with metal balconies and ladders, all painted a uniform black.

"Can we find her here?" Shaw asks, eyes devouring the building’s layout. Root gives her a warm smile.

"You can call me anything you want."

"What?" Shaw stops, looking at Root in slight confusion.

"You can call me ‘dear’," Root explains, as if it’s obvious. Shaw’s cheeks redden with flustered heat.

"That. Is. _Not_. What. I. _Said_.” Her voice is loud, and her mouth is overactive. Root cocks her head to the side. Shaw groans. “Did you wake up this morning and set a goal to get under my skin?” She spits, enraged, and turns to walk up the front steps of the building. Root merely smiles to herself, eyes fixated on Shaw.

"Can I help you?" A nasally voice patches through the intercom.

"We need to see Miranda Holden," Root replies with a sweet voice.

"Does she know you’re here?" He asks.

"No," Root answers, "It’s sort of a surprise."

"I don’t like surprises," the man replies flatly. "And neither do my guests. Goodbye."

Root looks to Shaw with eyes that say  _Can-you-believe-this-guy_? Shaw raises her eyebrows, a small smirk on her face.

Root, slightly annoyed, hits the buzzer again.

"Can I help you?" He asks, his greeting like an automated recording.

"Hi, me again," Root trills, putting her face closer to the speaker. She hears the man sigh.

"Listen, lady, unless you-"

"I  _know_. You don’t like surprises.” Shaw has to stifle a laugh at hearing Root’s strained politeness, waiting for her to burst. “But, you see, it’s extremely important. She-“

"Ma’am," Root is cut off by the loud intercom. "You’re  _not_  coming in. So you can turn around, and walk yourself back to your job on the street.” Root’s eyes widen at his words, an indignant sneer on her face. “Tell your little hooker buddies hi for me.  _Goodbye now_ -“

"I’ve about had it with you," Shaw cuts in, pressing down the talk but and shrugging Root out of the way.

"Who are  _you?_ " The man’s voice is acrimonious, and Shaw feels her blood boiling.

"I’m the person that’s gonna kick your ass as soon as I shoot a hole through the door."

The man is silent for a moment. “I will call the police if you do not leave this establishment in the next thirty seconds. Take your girlfriend and get.  _Out_.”

Shaw bristles. “My gi- you know what? We  _are_ leaving. But you watch out on the stree-“

Root grabs her arm, pulling her away from the speaker, and Shaw’s hand releases the talk button. She drags her back to the edge of the sidewalk before Shaw rips herself from her grip. Eyes spewing fire, she rages. “What right does that- that  _prick_  have to-“

"We’ll figure something out." Root replies after watching Shaw’s mouth closely, putting her hands on Shaw’s biceps. Looking around, her eyes land on the labyrinth of ladders and balconies. A small smile overcomes her face. "I’ve got an idea."

_________\ We’ll Find You /_________

"You got it?" Root asks, voice slightly strained.

"Al..most… _there_ …” Shaw’s voice is also tight, as she strains with one arm, groping for a ladder mere centimeters from her fingertips.  _How ridiculous we must look,_  Shaw thinks, as she sways to the side. She envisions the scenario of someone coming down the alley; seeing Shaw on Root’s shoulders, both struggling to take a fire exit into an apartment building.

"Ow!  _Sameen!_ " Root calls out. Shaw’s left hand grips her hair, and pushes her head at an off angle. Finally, Shaw’s hand connects to the bottom rung, and she quickly swings her other hand up to meet it.

"I got it!" She yells down to Root. Root bends her knees, slowly untangling herself from Shaw’s legs, and then steps to the side. With a grunt, Shaw pulls her torso up, muscles rippling as she drags herself over and onto the first balcony. Root watches, awed. "Whose bright idea was it to put a safety ladder  _nine feet_  of the ground?” Shaw grumbles, unlatching the latter from it’s hooks.

"Well, it’s for people to get  _out_ , not  _in,_ " Root points out as the ladder slides down, the bottom smashing to the ground. Taking to it, she climbs, and meets Shaw at the top. She gives her a doting look, then walks past, climbing the stationary ladder up to the next balcony.

"How far we climbing?" Shaw asks, following close behind.

"Five stories," she replies. They climb in silence for a time. On the fourth floor, Root stops suddenly, and Shaw bumps into her. "I hear a confrontation," Root informs her absently, then quickly scales the next ladder. Shaw throws her hands into the air.

"You can hear  _that_ , but you can’t hear  _me?!_ ”

Root peers down at her with a coy smile. She opens her mouth to reply, when suddenly glass shatters. Instantly, both women go on alert, and a man windmills back from the shattered doorway. He falls to the balcony ground, then rolls. Shaw dodges out of the way as his body drops to her level.

Shaw watches as Root raises her guns to the apartment. “Miranda. Stop!” Bullets fly Root’s way, and she drops to the ground to evade them. Shaw’s stomach tightens with anxious worry.

"Hang on, I’m coming up!" She takes to the ladder, and hurriedly pulls herself up. Suddenly, someone emerges from the six floor apartment, a mask obstructing their face. They draw a gun, and point it towards Root’s laying form.

"Root, above you!" Shaw shouts, drawing her gun. Root rolls over, taking aim. They open fire, each striking him in the chest; he falls.

"Oh, Sweetie," Root responds as Shaw army crawls onto the fifth floor balcony. "Now’s not the time, but I love you too."

Shaw freezes, feels her face drain as a warmth spreads on her cheeks. She tries to swallow her jumping heart as it beats wildly around in her chest. Before she can respond, Root shoots her a dazzling smile, then stands, firing wildly into the apartment’s living room. A woman cowers behind the couch, blonde hair in disarray as Root walks by. Finally, Shaw finds her voice, and it’s heated.

"That’s not what I said!" She rushes into the room, looking around. Turning to the woman at the couch, she asks, "Where’s Miranda?" and the woman cowers back.

"She-she- she w-went towards th-the bathroom," she tremors, and Shaw quickly stalks off to look for it. There are gunshots, and she runs forward, seeing Root pressed against the wall, smile radiant. She holds one gun in each hand, her breathing slightly hard, and Shaw can’t help but gawk at her.

"What were you saying out there?" Root asks in a whisper. "Something about us in bed?" Her eyes ignite in satisfaction to see Shaw’s mortified expression. The bewilderment melts into anger, and she raises her weapon, walking to the end of the hall. Keeping herself pressed to the light blue wall, she slams her leg back into the door, and it rips from the hinges.

Bullets fly out of the doorway, then stop. Shaw drops to the ground. In a sudden rush, she whips herself around the bottom of the door frame. Two shots. Two kneecaps. The woman screams, falling to the bathroom floor in agony. Root walks up, putting out a hand, and Shaw takes it. Smoothing down her jacket, Shaw looks over at Miranda.

"Why are we here if not to save her?" Shaw asks; Root shrugs.

"Maybe she has something we need?"

"Something Mr. Reese and Detective Fusco can find out." Harold’s voice enters for the first time that day. "They’re on their way- with the NYPD. I suggest you get out of there now." Shaw nods, surveying the area, listening for any sirens. "Oh, and Miss. Groves?" Harold asks. "You should think about getting your ears checked."

Root smiles good humoredly. “Bye, Harry,” she coos, and he’s off the air once more. “Let’s go,” Root says, walking back to the balcony. At the front door, Shaw stops, looking at it with an interest.

"Root, wait."

"We don’t have a lot of time," Root responds with impatience, hearing the first traces of police cars.

"This’ll only take a second," Shaw replies, holstering her gun. She rips open the door, then rushes out of sight. Root watches her, torn between following and dragging her back out the fire escape. Finally, she sighs.

"Don’t mention us," Root commands to the blonde, who nods vigorously. With that, Root returns her own guns to their places, then jogs forward.

She looks left to right, seeing no sign of Shaw, but hearing nimble footsteps charging down the stairs. She takes them two at a time, hoping to catch up. Down she spirals, coming out at last in the building’s lobby. Walking forward, she sees Shaw at the front desk.

"Wh-wh- wait, I-I-" a man with a familiarly nasally voice puts his hands up on either side of his head, eyes terrified. Backing up, he walks out from behind the counter- big mistake. Shaw winds up, and in one swift movement, strikes him in the jaw. He drops like a stone as Shaw blows a strand of hair from her eyes. A satisfactory smile emerges on her face.

"I remember when you did that to  _me._ " Root chimes, causing Shaw to turn around. She leaves behind her battle stance, and settles into a comfortable slouch.

"I’ll do it again, too," Shaw threatens, walking up close to Root. "Unless you explain your choice hearing." Root reveals a sly smirk, and shrugs her shoulders with innocent eyes.

"I’m deaf in one ear?" She offers, and Shaw gives an off-hand chuckle.

"You got that fixed. Nice try."

"Then, I’m not sure," Root replies with mock honesty, and Shaw aims to give her a playful hit. Root catches her at the wrist with a smile. Coming in close to Shaw’s face, eyes alight, she taunts, " _Missed_  me.”

Shaw pulls her wrist back down towards her without warning, causing Root to unintentionally lean forward. Shaw takes her free hand, grabbing Root’s collar, and continues her momentum. Pushing herself slightly upward, Sameen puts her lips on Root’s- Root drops Shaw’s wrist in stunned surprise. Pulling away, Shaw smiles in self-triumph to see Root’s unsuspecting face. There is a smile, but her mouth is still agape, and her eyes are excited but shocked. Letting go of Root, sirens approaching, Shaw boasts, “You’re not the only one who can play that game.”


End file.
